


Saudade

by anticholinesterase



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03, Prostitution, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:14:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27455554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anticholinesterase/pseuds/anticholinesterase
Summary: Saudade (English: /ˌsaʊˈdɑːdə/ )is a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something or someone that one cares for and/or loves."Him" Will nodded towards the handsome man in his late twenties leaning against a red brick wall, eyes elsewhere.Hannibal was not sure exactly what it was that Will saw in the man, but if there was one thing Hannibal had learnt in the past decade was to never doubt his partner.No one knew him better, after all.It’s their anniversary and Will presents Hannibal with an unexpected gift. Hannibal is forced to confront his feelings on the matter.An exploration of grief, endings and beginnings.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter/Other(s)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 53
Collections: ThisIsMyBeginning





	Saudade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1DanaNoe_l](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1DanaNoe_l/gifts).



> (In case you are worried about the **Creator chose not to use archive warnings** TW and doesn't have a problem with being hugely spoiled, check the end notes!)  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> This is my entry for @Hannibal Cre-ATE-Ive's #ThisIsMyBeginning
> 
> This fic was hugely influenced by the short movie [**Daddy by Christian Coppola**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bcYzYiVDIlg&ab_channel=ChristianCoppola) . I gave it a Hannigram spin and changed their ages a bit to fit my narrative better. This fic happens roughly ten years after The Wrath of The Lamb. The banner should give you a glimpse of how I pictured them.

Now with amazing art created by my dearest friend [**dHannibalbaby**](https://twitter.com/dHannibalbaby) !! This fic wouldn't have happened without you, obviously. But I can't thank you enough for adding just a little more of yourself to it with your beautiful art. This is our baby together and I am so very proud of it <3

* * *

* * *

“ _Him_ ” Will said nodding to Hannibal’s right with a dimpled smirk, the one that caused the scar of his cheek to stand out a bit amidst the scruffy beard of his. The one that Hannibal found so charming. Still. After all these years.

Hannibal looked in the direction of the young man leaning against the red brick building, eyes skimming over the passing cars that would slow down, cruise him, wait at the mercy of his judgement. So far all of them had been met with a lazy shake of his head.

The man was gorgeous, but that was of no consequence, really. Rather, their appearance would often be beside the point. In all their years together, whenever they allowed the odd one inside their marriage bed, Will was adamant in being the one who chose them. A flare of possessiveness in the way he made sure anyone who was granted permission for intimacy would defer to _him_. A clear statement that no one was allowed to touch Hannibal unless Will granted them permission to do so. It filled Hannibal with pride and stoked the ever-present fire within him, dedicated solely and fiercely to Will. Hannibal had never minded being shared under Will’s meticulous conditions, but it tugged on his heartstrings that Will chose today- _today_ of all days to welcome another inside their intimacy. But if there was one thing Hannibal had learnt in the past decade was to never doubt his partner.

Hannibal rid himself of doubt and entertained the idea that was presented to him. Will knew just how to strike, how to drive Hannibal wild in his choices. Sometimes the deciding factor was, in fact, physical. Something in their appearance, in the curls of their dark hair. The shade of blue in their eyes, similar to the ocean after a thunderstorm. Will was well aware that Hannibal found him strikingly beautiful and was absolutely shameless in exploiting that fact.

Other times it was not so much their physicality that resembled Will’s traits, but more of how they presented themselves to the world. How they cocked their hips, confidently, well aware of their attractiveness. Or their personality, the dryness of their humor, the abrasiveness of their temperament. Perhaps just the fact that they really loved dogs. It did not matter which was the pursued trait _du jour_ , Will made it so that it was just about what both of them needed at the time. Sometimes a cocky surrogate would be just what Will needed to be put into place while Hannibal watched, hand on his cock, fire in his eyes. Other times, a curly-haired and blue-eyed man, angelically beautiful to the point of heartbreak would be just what Hannibal needed to fill his senses, to cherish on a pedestal. Those were the times when Will would just watch, hot and bothered, tears in his eyes, heart full of wonder.

The dynamics would change but they always somehow fit. That was no surprise, really. Will knew him better than anyone else. Will kissed his cheek sweetly and Hannibal smiled at him, focusing back on the man that had caught their attention.

He was quite handsome, Hannibal conceded, eyeing the male escort and taking in his features. Long brown hair, soft curls sweeping gently in the early night breeze. Light colored eyes, though from the distance, Hannibal could not distinguish whether they were blue or green. Lithe, wiry body of the young and careless, semi-revealed by his open dark shirt and tight jeans. Hannibal did not understand the newest fashion at all.

" _It's not like your concept of fashion ever met other people's concept of fashion, baby. Newest or otherwise. Hell, the amount of times I had to witness you with a three-piece suit in completely unnecessary situations…..made me want to revoke your clothing privileges altogether."_

Hannibal huffed, offended " _There's no such thing as an unnecessary situation for a proper suit."_

Will snorted at the remark " _We lived on the beachside, Hannibal. For years. You wouldn’t die from going local just a bit."_

Hannibal flinched but got himself together quickly enough " _I did go local. I adopted the Panamá hat and the linen trousers as it was proper to the scenery. Not all of us were quite adept of forgoing their shirts altogether."_

Will raised an eyebrow at him, a sly smile on his face " _Like you ever complained. Like it didn't turn you on watching me work on the pier, all sweaty and flushed. All eyes on me. Knowing you were the one who would take me home at the end of the day."_

Hannibal swiftly adjusted himself, always affected, so intensely affected by whichever imagery Will prompted him. That had never changed. Hannibal feared it might actually have gotten worse " _I was compelled by the prospect of ridding you of those dreadful cargo shorts, obviously."_

" _Obviously"_ Will agreed, shaking his head at him, amused. " _Inadequate clothing is something you won't have to worry about this one, though. He is halfway unwrapped already, like a little gift. My gift to you."_

Hannibal took Will's hand between his and lifted it up to press a kiss on his knuckles " _I don't need a gift, Will, unwrapped or otherwise. I am quite happy with all I've got right here."_ The thought made his heart hurt in the way Hannibal had been actively ignoring in the past month, but it was true enough. He had Will. Just like he’d dreamed about more than a decade ago, whilst held in incarceration, waiting for the day Will wouldn’t bear to stay away any longer. Or maybe like he’d dreamed before that, when they had flirted their way through Will's becoming by ways of courtship and murder. Before, oh, even before all that. Immediately, the first time they laid eyes on each other. _Eyes are distracting_ , Will had said, bratty and violent in his intensity and Hannibal was doomed. Done for. His.

Will mimicked the gesture and lifted their joined hands to kiss Hannibal’s knuckles in return " _But it's our anniversary today."_

_"Precisely. All the more reason to dedicate myself to you entirely."_

But Will was not to be deterred once he got his mind into something. Hannibal knew this. It was one of the qualities Hannibal most cherished about him " _You know it will make me happy. You can do it for me if nothing else. Please, Hannibal."_

And who was Hannibal to deny his beloved anything?

*

The guy in question was Louisiana born and raised, with the drawling Cajun accent Will had freed himself from far before they'd met each other. _Alex_ , as he had promptly offered and Hannibal could only guess whether that was his real name or not, hadn’t seemed all that bothered when Hannibal declined his pick of the nearest motel in the French Quarter. He entered Hannibal’s car with a last look to the crowded streets of New Orleans before putting himself at Hannibal's mercy with a sweet smile at the corner of his lips. Hannibal smiled indulgently in return and started the car.

Alex seemed like a quiet type, apparently absorbing the mood and ambience like a sponge. He kept his hands inside the pockets of his oversized coat, taking in their surroundings with interested eyes, long hair flipping in the wind coming from the open window of the Bentley as they made their way to the outskirts of New Orleans towards the house Hannibal had rented in Audubon.

_“It really is beyond me why you wanted to visit this hellhole.”_

Hannibal glanced briefly at Will who was looking at him with a joyful but bewildered expression _“Of all the people in the world, I thought you would be the first to understand such a notion. Or was it not you that once touristed the sightseeing landscapes of my history? You set your sails and didn’t relent until you’ve reached the truth of me. I’d believe it to be only fair to reciprocate, eventually. Witness what interesting sights were there in the history of you that translated into such an interesting man.”_

_“The only interesting thing about this place was long gone before we even got here.”_

_“Oh, and what is that?”_

_“Me, of course.”_ That lopsided smirk that Hannibal adored _“Though I’d say I became interesting mostly after you happened to me. I’m afraid if you are looking into the sightseeing points that made me who I am, you should be looking no further than yourself.”_

Hannibal wondered, not for the first time, what would have happened if they had encountered each other earlier in life. Without the ties and constraints of their psychiatrist/patient (non-patient) relationship. Without the pesky demands and overbearing rules of Will’s profiling career. He wondered ( _wished for, hungered for, deeply_ ) what the outcome might have been had they partaken in each other’s lives from a more tender age.

_“It’s a moot point, really”_ Will reminded him gently _“I wouldn’t have understood you back then. And if I hadn’t gone through everything that made me who I am, you wouldn’t have been interested in me either.”_

Hannibal sincerely doubted that, and his reproach was a palpable thing. He could not even conceive a timeframe or situation where Will would not be utterly fascinating to him. Will rolled his eyes fondly at him but let it go for the time being. Alex seemed just fine not partaking in conversation, his posture relaxed and stance open on the passenger seat. He traced an invisible line in the air with his fingertip as if tracking the trees that passed them by. The wind ruffled his long hair in a halo not dissimilar to Raphael’s cherubic paintings and the aesthetic of it was not lost on Hannibal.

_“And don’t you ever love your angels.”_ Will murmured affectionately, eyes seeing to the bottom of him. 

_“I’m afraid, my dear, I only ever recall loving one.”_

*

The sounds of running water coming out of the bathroom were muffled by the sizzling of the large pot of gumbo that had been slowly cooking for hours now. Hannibal swirled it around as he fished out the last of the bay leaves, the enticing spicy aroma of it filling the air and making his mouth water. Will sat on the counter, legs swinging mindlessly as he watched Hannibal work, having already offered up all the little secrets he could remember from his father’s cooking back when he was little, and he would ask Will to _sous-chef_.

Hannibal focused on the stew in front of him as he tried to ignore what had been actively stewing inside his mind. Silly of him, of course, to hope that any distraught thoughts of his would ever pass Will by.

_“What is it that is bothering you, baby? I can hear your thoughts from all the way over here”_ he smiled apologetically at Hannibal’s light frown, but sobered up in the light of his darkening mood _“I genuinely hoped you would enjoy my gift.”_

Hannibal put the lid of the pot back in place and started setting up the table. Dinner should be ready by the time the Alex came out of the shower. Now that the preparations were over, Hannibal found himself caught amidst a wave of anxiety. He wished he had something else to occupy his hands with. He cleared his throat and turned back to Will who was observing him with clever, ever seeing eyes. He searched for the right words to start the conversation that he had been dreading terribly but knew they were bound to have today.

_“Are you familiar with the literature regarding the prairie voles and oxytocin, Will?”_

Will tilted his head to the side attentively and Hannibal felt himself being scrutinized. It was a heady feeling, one he failed getting used to, even after being subjected to it for so many years. It was the cost he had to pay for being loved by someone who knew him so intimately. It never failed to awe him every time.

_“Somewhat. They are one of the few species of rodents that are monogamous, right? There’s plenty of research being conducted on the mechanisms that make them differ from other non-monogamous species.”_

_“Precisely. Previous studies have shown that the neurotransmitter oxytocin plays a major part in inducing and regulating the formation of a pair bond. Monogamous prairie voles are known to have higher levels of receptors for this neurotransmitter than do voles who have yet to mate; and when promiscuous montane voles are treated with oxytocin, they start adopting a monogamous behavior they would not otherwise have. In other words, they were able to induce connection in a species that was biologically not prone to do so. A feature that, at length, they sought to apply into human research, specifically in disorders that implicated social deficits like autism or schizophrenia.”_

_“I’m guessing these effects are not that easily observed in more complex beings, with a complex range of behaviors to abide by?”_

Hannibal smiled at him, as infatuated with his sharp mind as he’d ever been _“You’d be correct, yes. Clinical research has shown that oxytocin effects on social bonding don’t lead to such promising results amongst healthy subjects. Apparently, a problem with oxytocin administration is that it may increase the sensitivity to not only positive, but also negative cues from social stimuli. When social cues in the environment are interpreted as positive, oxytocin may promote prosocial behaviors and bond formation, yes. However, oxytocin may also promote negative perceptions of the ones we perceive as “others” and induce defensive and, somewhat controversially, ‘‘anti-social’’ behaviors towards them, depending on the context or on the emotional state the subject encounters himself in.”_

Will grinned mischievously at him _“The fallacy of oxytocin as a love potion.”_

Hannibal hummed, agreeably _“Our emotions cannot be as easily manipulated as we perhaps might like them to be. And there is no amount of neuropeptides that can manufacture a proper bond as natural as fate deems us worthy of. No magic formula to create connection, real connection the likes of which might happen, in my experience, only once in a lifetime.”_

Will said nothing for a while, just absorbing and digesting Hannibal’s half said confessions as he was prone to, no matter how raw that would make Hannibal feel. How _seen_. Will’s hands clasped his own and made him move forwards, brought him to Will until Hannibal was standing between his knees where he was perched on top of the counter. He raised his hands to frame Hannibal’s face in a loving caress, mood made serious now by the weight of Hannibal’s anguish.

_“Hannibal. Are you saying you are incapable of any further connection in your life because you have already bonded with me? That your capacity to feel things for another has died along with me?”_

Hannibal turned his gaze away with tears in his eyes and didn’t answer. That was exactly what he was saying.

Will grasped his chin and forced him to look back at him _“I don’t think it works like that, sweetheart. This is what I have been trying to tell you. What you and I have should not subtract from what you are capable of feeling, but rather add to it. Multiply it"_ Hannibal shook his head in denial, but that only made Will tighten his grasp, make Hannibal focus solely on him " _No, you listen to me. All this love you have left in you, that you don’t know what to do with? It doesn’t have to dwindle away. You don’t have to repress it. You can act on it. Baby, I'm allowing you to act on it. It will only strengthen your bond with me. Just like old times. Anyone that touches you, that will be me touching you. Whoever, kisses you, caresses you. Fucks you. That will all be me. You can focus all your love on me, baby. I will never go anywhere.”_

Hannibal breathed out shakily, as viscerally affected and terrified as he’d felt on that fateful day one month ago. When for the first time since he'd met Will he was faced with the realization of what alone truly felt like. How it felt to have something vital taken away from him. Numb and alienated from this plane of existence, with no desire to engage with a world that didn’t contain Will Graham in it anymore.

The water shut off and the sound of footsteps moving towards the kitchen made Hannibal step back from the reverie and quickly dry off his tears on his handkerchief, trying to regain a sense of composure.

Alex entered the room, fresh out of a shower and brought with him the prospect of distraction from the big gaping hole in his chest and the ghosts that haunted his mind. Perhaps, Hannibal thought hesitantly and Will rubbed his shoulder encouragingly at the idea, he might be willing to try.

*

Hannibal served the two plates elegantly, balancing them on his forearm, reminiscing of the dinner parties he used to throw a lifetime ago. Alex observed him with careful eyes “You made me gumbo? I don’t think a client has ever made me dinner before, let alone serve me gumbo” He gathered a bit of the stew with the white rice on his spoon and took a bite of it, eyes closing shut in bliss “This tastes really authentic for a foreigner. I am impressed.”

“I am a very accomplished chef” Hannibal answered prim and somewhat offended. Alex looked back down at his food, seemingly uncertain of whether he had said the wrong thing. Hannibal sighed. It was not his fault, he reasoned. Hannibal had been spoiled by Will being so finely attuned to him that it felt like any thought of his was an extension of the other’s. A decade spent solely with someone who knew his mind as intimately as he himself knew it, made it so that Hannibal wasn’t used anymore to having to explain himself. Hannibal relented and gave it a go, for propriety’s sake “Besides. My partner was born in this area, but life led us far away from his home state. We’d often find ourselves moving countries, having to adapt to different cultures, mostly because of me. I concluded it to be only fair I learned to make such dishes for him, to bring a taste of home wherever we might find ourselves living at the time.”

Alex stirred his stew thoughtfully, glancing at Hannibal from the corner of his eyes. He seemed to be making calculations of his own. About why Hannibal was here. In Louisiana. In New Orleans. Why he was cooking for him. The house, the domesticity. It was a fantasy, and although Hannibal paid handsomely for it, the situation rubbed him raw in a way he was unaccustomed with. In his previous life, Hannibal would never let himself be caught in such a vulnerable position but that was not his life anymore, was it?

Alex swept a loose strand of his hair behind his ear and carefully made his first advance “Would you tell me more about him? Your partner.”

It was Hannibal’s turn to avert his eyes, both in thought and evasion. He found himself with a description at the tip of his tongue. A knee jerk reaction. Probably something intuitive, a subliminal feeling he hadn’t even noticed until now. But it was obvious to him that _Will_ had. Hannibal was reminded once again that Will always knew how to pick them. That it was his design. _Clever little thing._ He cleared his throat.

“I suppose you remind me of him. That’s not quite it, no. Not the version of him that I knew, the version that was mine. But perhaps an alternative version of him. The version that grew up between boatyards in Biloxi and New Orleans. The version that helped his father fix motorboats, spent his days on the docks. Never wanted for nothing else because he wasn’t aware he could want for something. A version of what might have become of him, had he not been swept away by his choices. Nor by mine.”

Alex nodded in understanding, shedding some of the doubt in his eyes about how to engage "When people come to me, that’s often what they are chasing after. An ideal of someone else. Or an alternative version of themselves. Sometimes both" he traced his spoon in an infinite pattern inside the stew, chin in hand, eyes elsewhere "But I always thought it was funny how we put these alternative versions of what could have been on a pedestal. We idealize them, because our own versions, the ones we are stuck with are tainted by the anxious feeling that we might have ended up with the bad one. The wrong alternative. But I think no matter which alternative we chose, in the end we would be riddled with the same doubts."

Hannibal couldn’t help but be charmed by the transformation of this man as he put on a suit of someone else, someone he thought Hannibal might want to spend the night with. It was fascinating to watch “Do you fancy yourself unaffected by such anxieties?”

"Of course not. I am only human after all, I’m afraid. But for me, this transaction is a conversation that goes both ways. While I help you chase your ideal, I can also let go of myself and chase my own” He looked up, a glint in his eyes “See, you were right about me. I lived here my whole life. I don’t want for anything else because I never even knew what to long for.”

Something in his posture changed just then. Taking off a suit, borrowing a new one. Hannibal could see less of the escort he picked up on a random corner in the streets of New Orleans and more of someone else, someone that called to Hannibal. One he knew too well. One he missed dearly. Hannibal could only stare in awe of the transformation happening right before his eyes.

“But that’s an alternative version of me, of course. Not the one I am tonight. Not the one you need me to be. No, I think that I know quite well what I long for this time.”

And it was predatory. Intense, in a way- In a way Hannibal had been subjected to only once. Only by one person. Their eyes locked and Hannibal was hard pressed to break the connection. Alex sensed that. Fed on it. Habituated himself in this mindset that Hannibal knew would wreck him. Alex took his silence as acceptance with a lopsided smirk that broke his heart a little.

“Oh yes. I believe we were once quite intimate with our needs, were we not, dear?

Hannibal tried to fight it, fight the warmth spreading inside of him. Fight the feelings, the memories evoked but he couldn’t help himself. Those were Will’s words spewing out of this man’s mouth. His cadence. His intent. Hannibal was helpless against it. He had always been. There was not a choice for him but to give himself over to it.

“We were one with our needs, yes. There was not a pleasure we would not share with each other. Eventually we were so intertwined as to be conjoined” Hannibal lost himself for a moment in the halls of his mind, revisited some of his most cherished memories. The ones with entire wings dedicated to Will. Light and bright, filled with sound and taste and life. Hannibal picked the one that resonated with him at this moment and the Primavera stood before him, Will looking fondly at him, battered and weary, but with the brightest smile he had graced Hannibal with thus far. The first of many in the years to come “We’d wondered once whether the both of us could ever survive separation.”

He was brought back to the moment slowly, in a haze that he always carried with him from each and every tiny memory with Will that was stored in his mind palace. Meticulously catalogued and archived in his mind for all eternity. He came back to this dining room, having gumbo with this odd man that seemed capable of stirring memories and emotions in Hannibal in a way that scared him. Will was also here, leaning against the fireplace with a knowing little smile on his face, hip cocked in that self-assured way that Hannibal adored and missed. Oh, but how he missed.

When Hannibal looked back at Alex sitting in front of him, he was looking at the exact same spot next to the fireplace Hannibal had been staring at. Will didn’t seem at all bothered, his little smirk actually intensifying. Alex looked back at Hannibal and Hannibal had nowhere to run from those understanding, accepting eyes.

“To me, it seems like a silly thing to wonder about” He mused to Hannibal gently “When it’s clear he’s always right here with you.”

Hannibal choked just the tiniest bit, overwhelmed and scrubbed raw. He didn’t know. He didn’t understand anything. Both Will and Alex just looked at him, twin expressions of amusement on their faces. Alex turned back to his food, mindless of the wreckage he left in his wake.

“Eat now, dear, before your food gets cold. I think we have his figured out.”

*

Hannibal was not much one for modern poetry, but Auden’s poems were a constant presence within his mind ever since Will- left. He had the book, one of the few he’d brought with him from their last residency in Marseille, open in his lap where he sat in a leather armchair in the cozy library. The vast collection of books in the shelves came with the house, one of the features that interested him the most when he had first visited the place. Books that typically would not entice his interests but now gave him an opportunity for immersion in the culture and flavor of the life he so desperately came seeking after. The opportunity to engage in a world that up until now was concealed from him. Will’s roots. He wondered if that version of Will, that alternative version that never left Louisiana, that was content with his dull life would have a library like this one. Would read literature that Hannibal’s fingers had never touched before. Will looked up from the armchair he was sitting on, some foreign book held between his beautiful hands, and shrugged at him.

Alex was leisurely browsing through the bookshelves in a manner so reminiscent of Will in their early days in Hannibal’s office, scared of human connection but oh so starved for it, that it took Hannibal’s breath away. An alternative version, he remembered himself, in admonishment and wistfulness that battled away inside the confines of his mind. Nothing more, nothing less. He saw Will lift up from his armchair and move in the periphery of his vision, followed by a hand caressing his knee. Hannibal smiled, tight lipped at him and tried to shake himself out of it. He’d done it before hundreds of times lately, he was perfectly capable to do it again.

Alex, seemingly unimpressed with the book collection, came back empty handed towards him “What are you reading there?”

Hannibal didn’t even bother looking at the book in his lap. He knew the words by heart.

_“The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,_

_Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,_

_Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;_

_For nothing now can ever come to any good.”_

“Funeral Blues” Hannibal clarified regretting his words already. The exposure. The vulnerability. Hannibal could recall, he was quite sure, a time in his life when he would never be abated by such emotions, such humanity- _goddamnit, Will-_

_“Hey, now”_ The hand on his knee tightened and Hannibal was graced with Will’s dazzling blue eyes, inundated by the depth of his lover’s feelings _“Don’t get maudlin on me now, baby. Today is not about that.”_

Well, it was not for Will to decide that now, was it? He was not the one who was left behind. Not the one plagued with the expectation of a life to be spent half-lived. Spoiled by the years with Will, years that came with the revelation of what to be wholesome actually felt like.

Hands closed around his that were still clasped tightly around Auden’s poem book. Hannibal looked down, holding back tears that threatened to fall, and Alex was sitting on the floor next to his feet, gently closing the book for him. They held hands on top of Auden’s bleeding sorrow. Hannibal felt as if there was nowhere to hide. Hide away from Alex’s determined eyes. Hide away from his pain, festering like a wound inside of him. No place in the world that contained Will Graham anymore.

So, he stayed right here.

Alex held his gaze with conviction “I think it’s time you tell me why you came here.”

Hannibal didn’t bother to pour out anything but the truth at this point “I came here to see what constituted him. What made him the man that he was. I was left alone in our home in France and the world around me felt suddenly rather-insubstantial. Like a soft breeze would be enough to carry away any evidence he had ever imprinted in this world. I feel-untethered ever since he died. I have him with me always in the halls of my mind, and I live there with him unconditionally, but the mortal world feels just so-dull and brittle without him in it. I was left seeking any vestige of substance that might link me back to him in this world. But trees and soil do not constitute a man now, do they?”

_“Not the kind of man you were, at least”_ he said to Will who brushed his cheek with tender, loving fingertips.

Alex was kneeling at his feet with his head resting on top of his crossed forearms, witnessing his unraveling with a compassionate , demure gaze and it felt like he _understood_. Hannibal didn’t feel such a strong urge to flee this time around.

“Perhaps I could find him just as easily in any number of other sightseeing places that constituted our history. On the long roads that connected Baltimore and Wolf Trap when we were entirely different people, a lifetime ago. In the fever heat of Havana, where we healed, grew stronger together. Where we pledged to never part again from one another. In the salt air that drifted from the ocean in Marseille where we entwined freely, created something for ourselves. Where we finally became who we were always meant to be.”

Will’s fingertips slid from his cheek to his chin, raising Hannibal’s eyes to meet his with determination in his lovely blue eyes _“Listen to me. The tides of this world might come and go. Time may pass you by and wash away our imprints out there. But not here, baby. You can always find me here. Nothing in this world will ever be as permanent as our connection.”_

The feeling of soft lips caressing his undid him. They kissed and Hannibal lost himself to the taste, to the feeling, the connection. He’d been so starved. Delicate fingers swept through the locks of his hair tethered him to reality and the feeling of alienation, of disconnection faded away for the first time in what felt like a long winter. Their lips separated slowly and terribly sweet with a lingering kiss that made Hannibal whimper, made him open his eyes, trying to capture the moment with all of his senses. Alex’s face greeted him with red-kissed lips and wondering eyes. The affection reflected in them was staggering, and Hannibal could not suppress his tears any longer.

“Shhh, there’s no need for that” Alex calmed him, fingertips brushing his tears away “We are all here now, dear, you are alright. Let us take care of you.”

Hannibal looked from Alex to Will, both embracing him with touch, understanding and deep, bottomless love, mortal or otherwise and he let them do just that.

*

Hannibal laid back on the soft cotton sheets of this strange bed, naked and as vulnerable as he’s ever let himself be in the presence of a stranger and suddenly he felt shy.

Will was laying down next to him in an instant, hands caressing his chest gently in a calming gesture _“Don’t get shy now. This moment is for you. We are all here for you. Nothing else matters but this.”_

Alex was kneeling on the bed between his legs, hands resting on his thighs, non-threateningly. Hannibal breathed out and let himself be soothed. He needed this. He wanted this. Will always knew exactly what Hannibal needed and this was no different.

_“You are damn right about that”_ A smirk directed towards him and Hannibal felt himself relaxing a little further.

A tightening of hands on his thighs made him snap his attention back to the man lying over him. Alex smiled indulgently down at Hannibal like he knew where he had been “Tell me. Tell me how to please you. Better yet, ask him. Let him take over for me.”

Hannibal moaned a small sound but gathered himself together, turning to Will for directions. Will was ever pleased to take control of the situation.

_“If it were me, baby, I would start by paying attention to that neglected cock of yours. It’s a thing of beauty, wouldn’t you agree?”_

Alex was prompted into action immediately, leaving biting kisses in a trail from his navel downwards and Hannibal dropped his head back against the pillow, surrendering to their whims. His cock rested flat against his pubic bone, still mostly soft, but that didn’t seem to deter Alex, who took the whole thing in his mouth eagerly, determined to draw a reaction out of him.

_“You’ve been so touch-starved, baby. Makes you so responsive. You know how I love that.”_

Will was right, the feeling of soft lips and a warm mouth around him made Hannibal hard so fast it almost gave him whiplash and he was soon enough encouraging Alex with soft whimpers and aborted little movements of his hips. Alex responded gracefully and with ease, accommodating his growing length and taking him deeper, holding him there a second longer at each bob of his mouth. Hannibal threaded his fingers through his long, curly hair and held on tight for the ride.

Alex removed the hand that had been holding the base of his cock and lunged forwards to deepthroat him with enthusiasm, hands surging upwards to twist Hannibal’s sensitive nipples. Hannibal could barely muffle his groan, turning his head to hide his face on Will’s chest who caressed his hair gently.

_“Oh, would you look at that. He is discovering all your sweet spots and I didn’t even have to guide him. Seems like you both would do just fine on your own.”_

Hannibal snarled at him, panicked _“Don’t you dare.”_

Will chuckled darkly _“You won’t get rid of me that easily, Hannibal. I thought I had made myself clear about that.”_

Hannibal gripped Will’s hand tightly on his own and didn’t let go. Just in case, he thought. Insurance.

Will’s grip was twice as strong. Reassurance _“Hmm. Perhaps I just have to try harder to lay down this message on you. Make sure that it lingers.”_

Alex moved as commanded, biting down viciously on the inside of Hannibal’s thigh and Hannibal was coming with a hoarse cry, whole body trembling, electrified. He rested his forehead on Will’s neck and tried to catch his breath as Will petted him soothingly.

_“Ahh, see. Just like that. I think you are closer to understanding, now. You are in good hands, baby.”_

Hannibal nodded and nuzzled him gently, still weary from his orgasm. He looked down to see Alex observing him knowledgeably, a sly smile gracing his lips “Tell him to stick around, would you? I’m not nearly done with you yet and I’m sure he has plenty of tips on how to best take you apart.”

Will laughed at his ear with mirth and Hannibal knew that for as long as he lived, that sound would always accompany him. He knew that for as long as he had him, had Will, had their bond that not death itself dared to break, he would still find enjoyment in the fine things in life. Will kissed him on his lips, soft and enticing and Hannibal knew then and there that they were nowhere short of pleasures to share with one another.

Will sighed against his lips and pressed their foreheads together _“We will do just fine, baby. We will do just fine.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Creator chose not to use archive warnings TW is used in this fic because Will Graham is actually dead. Hannibal has been talking to him in his mind palace all along. That's the big reveal of the fic. As stated in the summary, this is a study in grief.


End file.
